An Elephant for Aristotle
L. Sprague de Camp
PROLOGOS
Many have told of Alexander's conquests. Howsomever, such was the vastness of this revolution in the affairs of mankind that, I think, not even minor events of Alexander's career should be suffered to perish from memory. Therefore I, Leon son of Aristos, of Atrax in Thessalia, have written the history of certain happenings in which I took part during the divine Alexander's reign, nigh unto thirty years ago.
Some may deem my account a paltry thing. For, so far was I from commanding ten thousand men, like Xenophon, that my force at no time exceeded a hundred. Nevertheless, the work I performed for King Alexander was in many ways so singular that fain would I not die without recording it. And if I be guilty of insolence in presenting an account that is mainly a tale of my own adventures, I trust that the gods will indulge me.
I have sought to write foreign names in forms as close to the originals as can be done with Greek letters, except for some, like "Xerxes," whereof long usage has sanctified a Hellenized form. However, most Persian and Indian men's names end in the nominative either in vowels, or in hissing and breathing sounds that we do not have in Greek. Therefore I have ended such names with the letter s to make them seem less strange to my readers.
Book One
INDIA
My story begins at the end of the tenth year of the reign of Alexander, son of Philip, when Hegemon was archon of Athens. In the great battle in which Alexander vanquished Poros, the giant Indian warrior king, I, in my twenty-seventh year, fought as troop closer in the Thessalian Troop of Demetrios' cavalry regiment. We were the last Thessalians in the army. Tire rest of the levy, which at one time numbered two thousand, had been sent home from Media and Baktria.
In this dreadful struggle, I took an Indian spear through the calf of my leg. I bound up the wound and fought on as acting troop leader, after our troop leader fell before a javelin cast by Poros himself from the back of his towering elephant.
We fought till our javelins all were spent and we could hardly hold our swords for sweat and blood. Unhurt men were falling from thirst and exhaustion when at last I heard cheers from other parts of the field. The rest of our army had forced a crossing of the Hydaspes and were coming to help us.
The Indians, who had fought with the greatest fury though half surrounded, saw them also and began to fall back. Many elephant drivers had been slain, and the animals wheeled about and started for home. Soon the whole Indian army crumbled into a mass of fugitives. King Poros was one of the last to leave the field.
I sought out our squadron leader, a Macedonian named Eriguios, and asked for orders.
"Let Krateros' fresh horse handle the pursuit," said he, wiping blood from his face. "We shall wind-break our beasts if we push them further. Rally your troop and fetch back those who have gone off after the Indians."
I grieved not to miss the pursuit. Not only was I too weary to kill anything stronger than a rabbit, but also I do not like thrusting fleeing foes in the back. It seems a mean and unworthy thing to do, even to foreigners.
I rode back to where our troop had collected and sent our aide around the battlefield to rally stragglers. When he came back, several men were still not accounted for. I left one of the flank guards in command and rode off with the aide to look for the missing men. We picked our way among the bodies of hundreds of Indian foot soldiers slaughtered in flight. Happy the horseman, who has a good chance to escape if his side be defeated!
A few furlongs away I came on a curious sight. Poros' huge elephant stood with arrows projecting out from him like spines from a hedgehog. The drapes that hung from his sides were tattered and splashed with mud and blood. On the elephant's neck sat the driver, protected by white, quilted robes of Indian tree wool, which grows on a bush instead of a beast.
In the booth on the elephant's back sat the Poros, poising a javelin. He was the largest man I have ever seen. He wore a gold-inlaid helmet encircled with gleaming gems, and a coat of silvered scale mail. His beard was dyed green. His right arm hung limp and was covered with blood from a shoulder wound.
Some of our horsemen stood by, though at a prudent distance, for they had seen what this colossal king could do with his darts. Amongst these onlookers I saw most of my missing men.
King Poros was carrying on a lively dispute with one of our allied Indian kings, who sat on his steed near the elephant and shouted up at his fellow monarch. Though I could not understand them, I gathered that our Indian was trying to persuade the Poros to give himself up.
Then the elephant settled matters by kneeling down, so abruptly that Poros was almost shaken out of his booth. I suppose the Poros took this as a sign that his deities wished him to yield, for he climbed stiffly down from his mount. The other king dismounted to help him. They turned back towards the battlefield. The Poros walked slowly with his left arm around the other king's neck and wept at the sight of all the dead Indians.
"Ē!" Hither, all Thessalians!" I called in a husky croak, for my tongue was so swollen with thirst I could hardly speak. "Come on, lads, back to the troop!"
We had started off beside the Poros when we met Alexander and his staff. Alexander drew rein a few paces from the two Indian kings. His famous charger, Ox-head, had fallen dead in the battle, so he rode another horse.
"Silence!" cried the heralds. The Poros drew himself up and stared haughtily at Alexander.
There were two interpreters, one translating from Greek to Persian and one from Persian to Indian. Alexander said to the Graeco-Persian interpreter: "Ask him how he expects to be used."
The interpreters passed the message along. I could follow the Persian part, having learnt a smattering of that tongue from Hyovis, my Persian concubine. She, alas! perished of snakebite a little before the battle.
Poros rumbled something in Indian. After a pause for translation, the first interpreter said: "He says: 'Why, as a king, to be sure!' "
Alexander cocked his head and smiled. He said: "That is a right royal answer. Tell him I shall do that anyway, for my own honor. Now ask him if there be aught he would especially like for his own sake."
When the interpreters and Poros had spoken again, the Greek-speaking one said: "He says that to use him as a king includes all."
Alexander laughed, dismounted, and stepped forward. The seven-foot Poros, who towered over the little Alexander, closed his eyes and swayed. He would have fallen had not Alexander and the other Indian king caught him. Alexander's staff closed in around them so I could not see, but I heard Alexander's high voice calling for water, bandages, and medicines. Alexander fancied himself as a physician and liked a chance to practice his medical skill. Belike I owe my life to the fact that he never had occasion to employ it on me.
Soon Alexander commanded his folk to stand back. He had helped the Poros out of his mail coat and put his wounded arm in a sling. His staff made a litter of spears and a cloak, on which they carried the giant.
I led my men back to where I had left Eriguios. The Thessalian Troop, which numbered seventy-four at the start of the battle, had come through it with seven slain, and ten or twelve others gravely but not fatally hurt. I had but one wound, in my leg, though I had traded handstrokes with several Indians. Golden, my Baktrian mare, had several cuts but nothing crippling.
As we were all half dead from thirst, Eriguios led the squadron to the margin of the Hydaspes for water. I dismounted, fell in a heap, and swooned from loss of blood.